


Deliberate

by leiascully



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Dominance, F/F, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: Kara does what she's told.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: n/a  
> A/N: Kara's gift is a fancier Cat Grant-approved version of [this](http://www.lovehoney.com/product.cfm?p=33436) with more straps because come on, always more straps.  
> Disclaimer: _Supergirl_ and all related characters are property of Berlanti Productions and DC. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Kara's been wearing more skirts to work lately. Ms Grant, one night, stalked past her and dropped a nicely wrapped box into Kara's lap. 

"Wear a dress tomorrow," she said in a low, haughty voice. "And this. Don't open it until you get home."

Inside the box was a gleaming mystery attached to a collection of black straps. Kara had to look it up on the internet. She finally found it on a site with language so eloquent it took her a few minutes to realize it was a vibrator. Quiet, discreet, and powerful, the blurb promised, next to a photograph of a woman's thighs bound snugly by the straps. Kara blushed and slammed her computer shut, and then opened it again a second later so that she could study the photo some more. She made sure her windows were covered and then wriggled out of her trousers, laying them on the edge of the bed and tossing her underwear into the hamper. The straps were butter-smooth leather and fit perfectly around her hips and thighs, constraining her movement just enough that she would always know they were there, as if she could forget the way the sleek end of the vibrator slipped easily between her folds, just enough of a presence to tease. She scrolled down the page, trying to figure out how to turn it on. It was remote-controlled. She turned the box over, looking for the remote, but it was empty except for some pretty tissue paper, a little bottle of cleaner, and a satin bag that presumably stored the whole thing. 

"Well, that's not very helpful," she said to herself, glancing in the mirror. She was still wearing her blouse and cardigan. They didn't really make a good outfit with the silver vibrator that curved from her mound down between her legs. She stripped until she was wearing her bra and the vibrator. That looked better. It didn't exactly look like her, but it looked better. She rummaged through the box again, fruitlessly, and then froze.

Ms Grant still had the remote.

"Oh," she said to herself. 

"Oh!" she said a moment later. 

She took off the vibrator, put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, washed the vibrator carefully, and then picked out her outfit for the next day, laying the satin bag gently on top. Ms Grant almost smiled when she saw Kara, brushing her hands nervously against the skirt of her dress. 

"It's good to know you can follow instructions some of the time," Ms Grant said, holding out her hand for her latte.

"Yes, ma'am," Kara said. Twenty minutes later, while she was setting Ms Grant's calendar for the rest of the week, she felt a gentle buzzing between her legs, and almost gasped on the phone with the hairdresser. It was only ever a gentle buzz the first day, just enough to remind her it was there. Still, by the end of the day, Kara was biting her lip, desperately glad that the city was holding itself together for a few hours and Alex was at work while she went home and moaned almost loud enough to rattle the windows, her fingers slick with her own delayed gratification. 

That's how it all started. Fortunately the vibrator has lived up to its claim of discretion, though Kara's gotten a little fan for her desk, both to mask any noise and to cool her face. Winn asked a couple of times the first few days if she was feverish; she blushes too easily, but Ms Grant likes it that way.

Kara's been working late a lot lately. She tells the others it's to make up for the hours she's out in the city, putting out fires and rescuing snakes, but really it's because Ms Grant gives her a look, and Kara knows that they'll both be at their desks until long after dark, when the city shimmers with lights outside the enormous windows of Ms Grant's office.

She didn't always know why Ms Grant doesn't pronounce her name right, until the moment she first made Ms Grant shiver with pleasure and Ms Grant looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes and said, "Very good, Kara," and said it correctly. "Kee-rah" is about power: Ms Grant has the power to name and re-name her, to turn Kara into someone else, to keep her just off balance. There's never been a single moment of her time on Earth that Kara wasn't acutely aware of the imbalance between her superstrength and everyone else in the world, until Ms Grant. Maybe Ms Grant can't stop bullets or leap a tall building in a single bound, but she snaps her fingers or narrows her eyes and Kara melts. 

Tonight Ms Grant watches, arms crossed, as Kara undoes each button of her blouse with fumbling fingers and unhooks her bra. Kara doesn't know how to describe the way it feels to have all of Ms Grant's attention focused on her. She isn't sure Ms Grant doesn't have heat vision of her own.

"How would you like it if I recorded you?" Ms Grant asks, cool elegant fingers sliding down over Kara's shoulder to caress the curve of her breast as Kara kneels half-naked in front of the coffee table. 

"That would be...amazing," Kara says, imagining being able to watch as Ms Grant touches her, Kara's ecstasy magnified and duplicated across Ms Grant's puzzle wall of screens. She doesn't care so much about seeing her own face, but the thought of seeing Ms Grant's satisfaction from every angle makes her shiver.

"One day," Ms Grant says. "Perhaps I'll have your little friend set it up so that I can record you privately. I wouldn't want anyone else getting that footage. I would consider it extremely personal." She drags the sharp toe of her heel up the back of Kara's thigh, rumpling her skirt, and turns up the power of the vibrator until Kara's gasping, her face pressed against the cool glass of the coffee table. Suddenly the vibrator goes dead. 

"Sit," Ms Grant says, pointing to her own office chair. She picks up one of the pillows from the couch as Kara stands up, knees wobbling. She staggers to the chair and Ms Grant follows, as cool and collected as if she's asking Kara to put her lunch order in. She drops the pillow and kneels on it.

"Ms Grant," Kara begins, but Ms Grant puts a finger to her lips. She touches a lever underneath the chair, which collapses lower. She touches another lever and the chair reclines. Kara tips back and Ms Grant leans over her. 

"In no way should you interpret this to be a position of submission," she says, pushing up Kara's skirt and undoing the buckles that keep the vibrator in place. "While it's true that I intend to give you pleasure, I remain in complete control of your experience. You will not touch me. You will not come until I want you to." She pulls the vibrator away from Kara's body and hands it to her. Kara wraps the straps around her fist. If she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine she's strapped to the chair. 

"You will watch," Ms Grant says, and Kara opens her eyes. "Spread your legs." 

Kara does what she's told, already breathing faster. Ms Grant scratches her perfectly manicured nails up the insides of Kara's thighs and lowers her head. Her tongue flicks out to graze Kara's clit. Kara can feel the damp heat of her breath against her bare skin. She squirms with anticipation. Ms Grant's been paying for Kara's waxing appointments. "I can't afford to be seen with rug burn," she'd said the first time, delicately touching the skin around her lips. "You understand." Kara does now. It's so easy now for Ms Grant to part her folds, to find her clit, to let her lips brush over the swell of her vulva. It's a new sensation for her, a secret that belongs only to the two of them. 

"You're very wet tonight," Ms Grant says, murmuring against Kara's thigh.

"Just doing my best to serve you, ma'am," Kara says, tightening her fist until the soft leather straps start to cut into her skin.

"I like it," Ms Grant says. She bends again to run her tongue between Kara's folds; Kara gasps.

"You will hold out," Ms Grant tells her. "No matter what I do, you won't come until I tell you do."

"Yes, ma'am," Kara says.

"Keep your eyes open," Ms Grant orders, and then her head is between Kara's thighs. Kara can just see her eyes gazing up over the vista of Kara's stomach and cleavage. Somehow that makes it more intense. Ms Grant doesn't look away, even as she licks at Kara, even as her fingers trail over and around Kara's thighs and folds, even as she dips into Kara with two fingers. 

Kara remembers being struck by lighting, being a conduit for a power so intense it shook her to her bones. Being touched by Ms Grant is like that too. Every nerve in her body explodes with sensation. Her breath comes short. Her face is hot. Ms Grant's curls tickle against the skin of her thighs, and her tongue is hot and very slightly rough. She watches the way Ms Grant's eyes darken with desire and pleasure, as if there's some sort of link between what Kara feels and what Ms Grant feels, as if the agonizing bliss jolting through Kara's body sizzles through Ms Grant's veins too. 

"You may come," Ms Grant tells her after what feels like hours of her hot liquid mouth melting Kara down into radiant atoms, her thumb replacing her tongue on Kara's clit, her other fingers reaching deep inside of Kara.

"Thank you," Kara gasps, and lets go. Her back arches; her body shakes. She's hurtling through a sky full of stars, absolutely free, the power inside of her rejoicing to be used. She shivers her way back into her body and sees Ms Grant watching her, a look of satisfaction on her face. Kara can't meet her eyes. She looks down at her bare legs, and notices with a shock that she's left a wet spot on the pale velvet of Ms Grant's chair.

"I'm so sorry," Kara says. "I'll get a towel. I'll clean it."

"Don't bother," Ms Grant tells her. "I think I'll find it quite satisfactory to know that I made you forget yourself enough to ruin my upholstery." She smiles, sitting back on her heels. "Now make me do the same."

"Yes, ma'am," Kara breathes, pushing herself out of the chair. Ms Grant steps out of her dress but leaves her heels and her bra on, looking as composed in the chair as if she were wearing a suit of armor. Kara kneels in front of her and pours every ounce of energy into pleasuring Ms Grant, giving her a moment to come undone in a world that never lets her falter. Ms Grant doesn't hold her eyes this time, but she reaches down and strokes Kara's breasts, and when she comes, shaking against Kara's tongue, the wet spot is darker and bigger than it was before. 

"Very nice, Kara," Ms Grant says, her damp fingertips trailing down Kara's cheek. "See how well we work together."

"Yes, Ms Grant," Kara says, gazing up. She doesn't know how to explain that this sets her free. When she's here, or in a hotel, or in Ms Grant's apartment, the only person she has to please is Ms Grant. She doesn't have to save the world. She only has to do as she's told. It's intensely liberating somehow, following orders that she knows will only end in mutual satisfaction and respect.

"Imagine how our partnership will develop over the years," Ms Grant muses, motioning for Kara to pick up her underwear. "Remind me tomorrow to invest in a significant interest of this chair company." She gets up, steadying herself on Kara's shoulder, and steps back into the lacy thong that Kara holds for her. 

"Yes, Ms Grant," Kara says, and she feels like she's glowing.

"Are you hungry?" Ms Grant asks, picking up a bottle of water and taking an elegant sip. 

"Starving," Kara says.

"Put your clothes on and go find us some food," Ms Grant tells her. "Something with noodles. Bring it back and we'll see if there's any other furniture around here that needs to be...christened."

"Yes, Ms Grant," Kara says, and does as she's told, feeling invincible.


End file.
